


When Finally You Come Home To Me

by RosieRaven



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 08:57:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4173765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieRaven/pseuds/RosieRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After attending different high schools, different universities, and for a while working in different cities, they’ve spent most of their lives in this rhythm of cool and cordial distance interrupted with bouts of wild passion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Finally You Come Home To Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for MidoAka Month prompt #3 - Passion.

Akashi is certain the taxi ride from the airport to their apartment is the longest one of his life. The traffic is terrible for the time of day, everyone moving at a snail’s pace. When he finally arrives at their building, three other people get in the elevator with him and he wants to scream. The elevator doors finally open in the hallway to the penthouse and he nearly drops his keys undoing the lock.

Midorima sits sprawled on one end of the couch with a book in his hands. He sets it down and stretches his arms up over his head, while Akashi drops his bags and toes out of his shoes.

“Welcome home. How was Hong Kong?”

Akashi flings off his jacket and pounces, his arms reaching around Midorima’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Midorima groans deep in his throat, arms wrapping around his waist as Akashi straddles his thighs.

Six weeks. 

It’s been years since they’ve been apart this long. 

After attending different high schools, different universities, and for a while working in different cities, they’ve spent most of their lives in this rhythm of cool and cordial distance interrupted with bouts of wild passion. 

Akashi pulls back, panting, fingers laced tightly in Midorima’s hair. 

Midorima’s mouth quirks up into a smile, “Miss me?” 

Akashi doesn’t respond to the absurd question. Instead, he rises to his feet, and pulls them into the bedroom. Clothes come off more slowly than anticipated, both of them luxuriating in the sensation of fabric being pulled away, eyes raking over each patch of newly exposed skin.

Finally and gloriously naked, Akashi backs Midorima up to sit on the edge of the bed and slides into his lap. They kiss and touch, hands and lips moving over the familiar territory of one another’s bodies. Midorima’s hands smooth up the backs of Akashi’s thighs and between his legs. Akashi wills his breaths to come slow and steady as Midorima’s fingers circle around his opening. 

Midorima sucks in a breath and tilts his head as his fingers meet slickness. “Did you... are you already...”

Akashi can’t hold back the smirk that plays over his face. He leans close to his ear and whispers, “I got bored on the plane.”

He’s not sure how Midorima still manages to blush so hard after over a decade of intimate contact, but he finds it endearing.

Akashi closes his eyes, as Midorima works one finger inside of him and then another. They’re thicker than his own, and able to reach much deeper and infinitely more satisfying. They teasingly hit the sensitive spot deep inside of him. His hands are always so strong, so precise. He never does anything with them that is not intentional. Akashi hisses and uses his teeth on Midorima’s earlobe.

When he’s as ready as his patience can take, Akashi places his hand against the center of Midorima’s chest and slowly pushes him down onto his back. “Hands,” he orders, plucking his discarded necktie from the bedside table.

Midorima frowns, fingers digging into Akashi’s thighs, “You can’t be serious.”

Akashi resists the urge to laugh and imperiously raises an eyebrow.

For a moment it looks like Midorima might rebel, but instead he sighs and holds out his arms. Akashi carefully ties his wrists together, and then ties them again to the headboard with the scarlet Italian silk. He slips a finger between fabric and skin to make sure it’s not too tight. Midorima tugs, testing the knot and the muscles in his arms ripple as the bed creaks.

Akashi reaches down and firmly pinches a nipple, making him gasp. “Be good.” After spreading more lube over Midorima’s erection, he positions his hips, reaching back to rest his hands on the bigger man’s thighs. Akashi guides him inside and groans, his head tilting back as he sinks down. 

Midorima’s arms flex and his head turns to the side, hips rising up off the bed, “Oh God.” 

“Fuck.” It’s a tight fit, but Akashi’s never been one to balk at a little discomfort. He steadies himself with his hands and rolls his hips in small circles, accustoming himself to the feeling of being penetrated again. Midorima’s breath comes out shaky through his lips, hitching with his movements. Akashi gasps when he leans back and finds the right angle with his hips. He arches back, letting a stuttering breath out through his mouth. Akashi begins to rise up and lower himself down, finding a pace that makes his thighs tremble.

Midorima curses him, hips bucking upward. The headboard groans as he tugs furiously against his restraints. 

Akashi screws his eyes shut, teeth digging into his lower lip as he rocks forward. He wants to come more than anything, but letting go first is tantamount to losing, and Akashi doesn’t lose.

His eyes fly open at the harsh sound of ripping fabric. His back hits the sheets and suddenly he’s trapped between Midorima and the bed. 

Midorima presses forward hard and Akashi’s toes curl, back arching up off the sheets with a high pitched moan. When it comes to sex, Midorima tends to oscillate between being docile as a kitten or fierce as a rabid tiger with no middle ground. Akashi enjoys the extremes. Midorima pins his wrists above his head with one hand and his thrusts are relentless.

With Midorima’s control gone his own quickly follows. He gives voice to every impulsive wanton sound, swearing, moaning, wailing, it makes no difference. His whole world centers on the man on top of him, inside of him. The pounding of his heart, the rush of his breath against his ear, the pure heat pooling in his belly, lancing from his fingertips to the tips of his toes.

It’s taken a long time for him to get to this point, where he can let go and give control to someone else, but Midorima has his absolute trust. Midorima’s arms are one of the only places where he feels free. Every false thing falls away. There’s no need to pretend, to be anything other than what he is.

Midorima lets go of his wrists, seizing his hips in both hands as he grinds down into him. Akashi lets out a final cry, fingernails viciously raking down Midorima’s back as he finds release. He feels a rush of heat inside as Midorima finishes. 

Midorima collapses on the bed beside him, wrapping an arm around him and pressing a hand to his chest despite the heat and the sweat. They’re upside down on the bed, feet among the pillows, but Akashi can’t summon the energy to move. The setting sun paints the sheets a deep orange. Feeling lightheaded, he cranes his head up gazing at the frayed piece of silk still tied to the head of the bed. 

He finally catches his breath enough to remark, “I liked that tie.”

Midorima snorts, “I would apologize, but it seems you already took out your disappointment on my back.” He rolls his shoulder and winces. “I think you broke the skin,” he fusses.

Akashi hums. He knows he should feel bad, but all he manages to feel is a perverse sense of pride. They roll to the other side of the bed where the sheets are dry and cool. He draws Midorima in for a lazy lingering kiss. Midorima is smiling and satisfied when he pulls back. 

Akashi’s glad to be home.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://deexes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
